New Release, Official Blurb and Excerpt!

I have been hinting about it for a while, and the time has finally come to unveil my latest project. I am so excited to share the official book blurb, as well as the opening scene. Oh! And the title! I have been pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing, so here it is! This is NOT the official cover, which is not quite ready to be revealed, but it’s a hint.

London Holiday

When the truth is harder to believe than disguise.

Drugged and betrayed in his own household, Fitzwilliam Darcy makes his escape from a forged compromise that would see him unhappily wed. Dressed as a footman, he is welcomed into one of London’s unknown neighbourhoods by a young lady who is running out of time and running for her life.

Deciding to hide in plain sight, Miss Elizabeth Bennet dodges the expectation to marry the man of her mother’s dreams. When the insolent footman she “found” refuses to leave her side until they can uncover a solution to their respective dilemmas, the two new acquaintances treat themselves to a holiday, experiencing the best of what Regency England has to offer.

Based on Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice, can two hard-headed characters with kind hearts discover the truth behind the disguise? Enjoy the banter, humour, and growing affection as Mr Darcy and Miss Elizabeth have the best day of their lives, and discover that they just might find love and romance while on a London Holiday. This book is appropriate for all ages.

Are you ready for Chapter One? Here you go!

Fitzwilliam Darcy crossed his arms and stared. “I will not marry Anne, Aunt Catherine. It is a matter of prudence—I will require an heir, and Anne is not healthy enough to bear one. Considering her frail constitution, it appears unwise to continue the family history of wedding cousins to one another.”

Lady Catherine whirled from the fire. “Fitzwilliam Darcy, I mean to see that you do your duty. Do you not recall that this was your mother’s favourite wish? Have you forgotten that even your lamented father sanctioned the match, and the earl also speaks in support of it? Have you so little respect for your mother’s family that you would reject the unified voices of all? The announcement shall print on the morrow, and you are an engaged man whether you like it or no.”

“I shall have it repudiated!” Darcy objected. “You will not force my hand, Aunt Catherine. I will not have Anne, and that is the end of it.”

“If you do not marry her, she will be ruined! Everyone has been expecting the engagement for two years now.”

“That is because you have been broadcasting it as a fact. I have never viewed my cousin as a potential wife. I do not wish to see her ruined, but that would be your own doing, not mine.”

“Fitzwilliam Darcy, I am ashamed of you! You would deny the claims of duty and your family?”

“My duty to my family requires that I produce a healthy heir. It would be better if my wife did not expire in the process.”

“Anne is perfectly strong and quite capable of bearing a child.”

“Anne would break if I were to touch her with more than a cousinly embrace. The marriage bed itself might be the death of her.”

“Fitzwilliam Darcy! That you should speak to an old woman with such callous indecency!”

“If it is what is needed to persuade you that Anne is not a suitable match for me, I would take up the speech of a sailor. I will not marry Anne, and that is my final word on the matter.” Darcy enforced this remark with a firm jerk of his head and turned to go. “I expect you and Anne will be returning to Kent on the morrow?”

Lady Catherine’s mouth clamped in rage. “I shall leave London only when I have received assurance that you will fulfil your obligations to Anne!”

“That, I shall never do, for no such obligation exists. You must make yourself comfortable for an extended stay, I am afraid.”

Lady Catherine stamped her cane on the ground in a fury. “Very well! Then I shall know how to act.”

Darcy stifled a sigh and retired to his chambers where his valet, Wilson, appeared to help him out of his coat and cravat.

“Did you wish for a nightcap, sir?” sagely enquired his long-time body man.

It was not Darcy’s way to drink himself into his bed, but his mind was still roiling with anger at his relation. Perhaps a drink would help soothe him to slumber. “Yes, thank you, Wilson. A brandy, if you please. And would you be so good to have a book sent up from the library?”

“Do you have a preference, sir?”

“No. Anything will do—your choice. The duller, the better.”

“Very good, sir.” Wilson gathered his master’s clothing and disappeared to procure the requested items.

Darcy sank wearily into the chair at his writing desk and frowned out of the darkened window. The surest solution to this predicament with his aunt and cousin was to find another wife. A suitable wife. The only trouble was that every eligible lady he had encountered was either as offensive as his aunt or as insipid as his cousin. There was not one with whom he would wish to share his house, to say nothing of his bed, for the remainder of his days. He was yet unwilling to condemn himself to such a sentence, and with Georgiana’s recent heartbreak at Ramsgate, he had enough domestic trials without adding another woman to his house.

In short order, Wilson had returned with a hefty treatise on different varieties of wheat and agricultural planting seasons. Apparently, he had taken his master at his word and found a book guaranteed to render him comatose, from either reading it or being struck over the head by it. He also presented a tray with a snifter of brandy, generously measured even for a man of the master’s height. “Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?”

“No, thank you, Wilson. You may retire, and I shall speak with you in the morning.”

“Very good, sir.” Wilson bowed and retreated.

Darcy stretched in his chair and reached for his drink, sighing in at least partial satisfaction. Not many valets would be content to perform the tasks of a common footman. He was a good man, Wilson was. All his people were—at least the ones he knew. There were too many to know them all well, and therein lay part of his troubles this night. If only he could go about with fewer hangers-on, fewer who depended upon their connection to him, and fewer who took an interest in his affairs. Occasionally, he even wished to remove to the hunting lodge at Pemberley, with only Georgiana and occasionally Richard for company. He would dress himself, cook as his tenants did, and carry on with a simple existence, leaving the greater part of his worries here in London.

That was all twaddle, and he chided himself harshly whenever the irresponsible fancies came to him. He was the Darcy, presently the last male of a proud line, and there was a certain honour in carrying that torch on behalf of his forefathers. There were times, however, when he confessed even to himself that the trappings of his station were not all pleasant. This business about marriage was but one of any number of restrictions clouding his path.

Marriage. To Anne! His aunt must be daft if she thought he would yield. It would be a miserable time of it in his house until she gave in and returned to Kent, and he calculated that he was set for at least a month this time. Darcy held up the rich, dark brandy to the firelight, wishing it would wash away all his troubles. That being a futile hope, he lifted it and drained the entire contents at once.

Ten minutes later, he was in his bed, still half-dressed and reading his exceedingly dull book. The brandy must have been of a remarkably potent vintage, or the book even less interesting than he had persuaded himself to believe, for within a very few minutes his eyelids were already beginning to feel rather heavy. They startled open, however, at a commotion at the door. There was a frenzied knock, and he bade entry more out of curiosity than a desire to see anyone.

Wilson stumbled into his room, his expression wild with alarm. “Sir! You have not already taken your drink?”

Darcy cast his glance to the empty glass on his writing desk. “Was I meant to admire it from afar?”

“Sir, I have good reason to believe it has been tampered with.”

“Tampered with? Who would do such a thing in my own house?”

“Lady Catherine, sir!”

“Wilson,” Darcy tossed his book aside and peered cautiously at his loyal manservant—a man he had been accustomed to think of as rational. “Do you mean to suggest that my aunt would break into my cellars, pull the stoppers, and somehow adulterate the drink?”

“Sir, it was one of the footmen, on Lady Catherine’s orders. I overheard a few of the maids talking, and it sounded as if Lady Catherine had intended for you to take your drink and fall so soundly asleep that she could bring Miss de Bourgh into your bed later so that they might force a marriage.”

“What? Even my aunt could not suggest something so ludicrous. Have you been drinking yourself, Wilson?”

“Well… sir, the same footman invited me back behind the kitchens, as he had a little left of his evening drink and wished for a companion. I thought nothing of it, as the same chap has occasionally offered me a drink on previous visits to Town. He was off his duty, sir, and I thought there would be no harm.”

“Wilson,” Darcy heaved patiently, “please come to the point. I am rather fatigued, but I believe I heard you make unfounded accusations against my relative. As I know that could not be the case, I would prefer that you cleared up the matter.”

“Sir, it was after the drink with the footman when I overheard Lady Catherine’s maid making the arrangements. Clearly, I was not meant to hear that, sir, but several others were enlisted to help her. It was no secret.”

“Do you mean my own staff would conspire against me? Wilson, that is quite impossible. Every member of this household has been with the family for at least a generation.”

“Sir,” Wilson suggested uncomfortably, “they were with Mr George Darcy, who was sympathetic to Lady Catherine’s cause, and some of them were even recommended for their positions by Lady Catherine herself. I have it on good authority that a number of them are quite on her side of matters. I also fear that those individuals she found beneficial to her purposes may have thought it no harm to take some additional pay from Lady Catherine. I am sorry, sir, but I am quite uncertain who may be trusted. I have a strong suspicion about that drink you took, sir, as it was given into my hand by the same footman who poured my own drink. Are you feeling well, sir?”

“As a matter of fact,” Darcy rubbed his jaw, “I am feeling rather unnaturally drowsy.”

“Then it is as I feared, sir! I believe we have both been drugged. I expect within an hour; we shall be beyond consciousness.”

“Wilson, that is a rather malicious accusation. Can you be certain of any of this?”

“Sir, I have seen evidence with my own eyes. Lady Catherine always brings several of her own staff, and you brought only myself and a pair of stable lads from Pemberley. I fear there is more to this than mere suspicion, sir. We must think how to act for your protection.”

“Protection from my own household! You must have imbibed too much, Wilson.”

“Sir,” the strain of fear began to bead as sweat upon the valet’s brow, “I heard it myself. A maid was sent to tell Miss de Bourgh that all was in readiness and waited only upon you to retire!”

Darcy stared in astonishment. “Is there no reason or sense left among my staff? How many of the household have been disloyal?”

“I have no way of knowing that, sir, and I would not unjustly accuse the innocent. I only know that many of the downstairs staff have likely thrown in their lot with Lady Catherine, seeing as that’s the way the wind is blowing—begging your pardon, sir, but that is what is said below stairs. She makes promises, sir, and I have heard of it myself.”

“Such as? What could she possibly say that could make my own household risk being turned out with no character? And why would any wish to betray me for my aunt’s good favour? Have I not always been a generous master?”

“Yes sir, it is only that they wish to be found amenable in the eyes of the future mistress as well. It is accounted as inevitable that you shall marry Miss de Bourgh, who will then spend more of her time here than yourself. Lady Catherine has done a substantial bit to enforce that opinion. She always leaves generous gratuities where they are not required, and she speaks with great sentiment of your father. Many of the older staff and those of the younger set who prefer an extra drink now and then are much disposed in her favour. I have no reason to believe it is like that at Pemberley, sir, but you are here less often. Perhaps your character when in Town is….”

“Is what?” demanded Darcy.

“Well, sir, though I must beg your pardon…”

“Speak frankly, Wilson. You are quite safe,” assured Darcy wearily.

Wilson drew a breath and nodded. “It is only that you are thought to be less approachable here in Town than you are at Pemberley. I quite understand, sir, for when you are here you have business to be about and social functions which weigh more upon your time. Few are privileged with a more personal acquaintance with you, such as am I. Unfortunately, sir, the effect has been that few know you well enough to disbelieve Lady Catherine’s assertions. I believe it is commonly thought that Miss de Bourgh and Lady Catherine would do the house good, and that matters only want a little assistance to move forward.”

“My aunt has corrupted my household!” Darcy breathed, his mind reeling and numb. “I would not have thought it possible! What is to be done? I will not permit my aunt to force my hand into marriage.”

“Sir, I could lock your door, but the housekeeper and the butler both have the key. I do not know if they are to be trusted, but the butler is the one who unlocked the brandy cabinet.”

“What drug was used? How incapacitated shall we be?”

“I do not know, sir, only that I heard talk of one hour, and that was considering a man of your height.”

“That is little time,” mused Darcy. “Are you certain there is no one else in the house we can trust?”

“There probably is, sir, but I do not know who they are. I fear that we may not be conscious long enough to stage an inquisition.”

“Then I must go elsewhere, for it is not safe here until I am no longer incapacitated,” decided Darcy. “I believe Colonel Fitzwilliam is in Town, and his apartment is not far.”

“Very good, sir, I shall summon the carriage.”

“No, no carriage. If I am to escape my household in the dead of night, I must do it discreetly. Fitzwilliam’s apartment is easily within walking distance, and my aunt will be none the wiser until I am beyond reach.”

“But, sir!” protested Wilson. “You cannot walk that distance safely. What if you were to fall unconscious? What if the drug overpowers you?”

“The cool air will help me to remain alert some while longer. You said I had an hour. It will take me only a quarter of that to walk the distance.”

“And it has already been more than that, sir.”

“Then I had better make haste.” Darcy rose from his bed, feeling a slight wave of dizziness shake him. Whatever he did, he must do it quickly!

“Sir, with all due respect, a man of your station walking out at night is rather vulnerable. Had you not better take a carriage? At least take a footman with you, sir.”

“You have said yourself that we do not know whom to trust.”

“Then I shall attend you, sir,” Wilson declared.

“No, I will ask you to remain here and be my eyes and ears. You can be of far greater use to me if you feign ignorance and convey to me how the matter lies tomorrow. I would know who has been honest, and who must be turned out. I expect we will both experience raging headaches upon awakening and must seek some chance to gather our wits.”

“And what of you, sir? Would it not be difficult to explain your disappearance?”

“I declined the drink you brought me and went out without apprising my aunt,” suggested Darcy. “Of course, as my valet, you would naturally know of my destination, but the entire household need not be alerted. I do not normally rouse everyone when I wish to go out late.”

“You do not normally attend your club in the evenings at all, sir.”

“My aunt would not know that. You can tell them that I had a note from an old friend who was in Town and wished to see me. That much is not untrue, for I have had such a note, but I declined the request earlier this evening. Still, it will give her pause enough, if she understands that others will know of my whereabouts and can provide an alibi if need be. Meanwhile, I shall be recovering my faculties at Colonel Fitzwilliam’s apartment.”

“Sir, I must protest. It is not safe for you to walk out alone. You would be a target for footpads!”

“As myself, perhaps, but dressed as a manservant, I would not. Quickly, find me a set of clothes. Is there not a footman about my height? It will be well, Wilson. The sooner I am dressed and safely away from here, the less chance my aunt has of succeeding in her scheme.”

Sound like fun? I hope so! We will be holding a cover reveal soon, and it will be different from any cover I’ve ever had. Janet Taylor has something special up her sleeve, and I cannot wait to show it to you. With summer just around the corner for everyone, it’s about time for a holiday!

-Nicole